


In Each Other All Along

by Kiyaar



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Blowjobs, Emotional Baggage, Guilt, Intimacy, M/M, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 10:29:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20655725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/pseuds/Kiyaar
Summary: Steve would wait for an eon and a half but Tony knows he’s still human. He’s waiting for the day Tony makes a mistake, for the day that thin strip of leather comes off and hesees.





	In Each Other All Along

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Замкнувшись друг на друге](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22732555) by [Leshaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshaya/pseuds/Leshaya)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Всегда друг в друге](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22736326) by [littledoctor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledoctor/pseuds/littledoctor)

> This is for Senisra, who wanted "soulmates."

Steve groans and heaves and rolls over onto his back, as if Tony has drawn the last of his strength from him. He’s sliding into his bashful moments, one arm thrown over his face as if anything could disguise the bright pink flush creeping into his cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” Steve declares between gasps of air. He grips himself like it’s his only line to sanity. 

“Tony is fine,” Tony says mildly. 

“Lie on top of me,” Steve says, “come here,” but he’s already halfway to gathering Tony in his arms, dragging their bodies together, slotting Tony’s sticky softening cock into the space between Steve’s hip and thigh. Sometimes Tony thinks Steve likes this better than the sex, the part where he gets to touch Tony for as long as Tony can tolerate before he starts to remember, before he starts to crawl out of his own skin. The A/C is picking up Tony’s sweat, making him shiver, and Steve rubs one of his hands down Tony’s back, traces the scar over his left shoulder blade, kisses the one that creeps down his chest from his neck. He rubs down Tony’s arms, staving off the goosebumps. He touches Tony’s back, Tony’s spine, catches Tony’s hands and brings one to his mouth for a wet, filthy kiss to his knuckles. 

And then he’s there. Steve’s fingers play over the thing around his wrist. Steve pretends he’s stumbled upon it, every time.

“When are you gonna let me kiss what’s under here,” Steve murmurs. 

Tony lies still and silent. He is so very grateful he can’t see Steve’s face. He presses his cheek against Steve’s bare shoulder, traces the lines of his bicep, smooths the pad of his thumb over the dewy sheen of his skin. Perfect and unbroken and unmarked. 

Steve thinks he’s harboring a deep secret. A dead lover, maybe. Worse: an ex-lover. Someone ready to stroll back into Tony’s life at any moment and take. Worst: someone that has hurt Tony. Steve doesn’t talk about it often but Tony knows, sees his gaze drift to the thing around his wrist: in the gym, when he’s half out of the suit, when he’s pulling his shirt off. 

Steve would wait for an eon and a half but Tony knows he’s still human. He’s waiting for the day Tony makes a mistake, for the day that thin strip of leather comes off and he _sees. _

“You can take it off,” Tony mumbles. “I wouldn’t stop you.” 

“You could tell me about it,” Steve counters, ever the reasonable one. 

“I could blow you instead.” 

“Do you not trust me with this,” Steve asks, each word carefully chosen. 

The problem is Steve thinks he’s special. Steve thinks Tony holds him to different standards, and he’s _right. _Steve thinks he should be able to bypass Tony’s locks one by one, that by virtue of being Steve, one day the cage to Tony’s heart will just swing open all on its own. 

Tony gently pulls his hand away. He wedges it under the pillow. He removes the temptation from Steve’s grasp. 

“I think it’s not about trust,” he says, and he levers himself up, as lithe as he knows how to be, gives himself over to movement and distraction and pushes the feeling in his throat down, down, down. 

“Okay,” Steve says. 

“Okay,” Tony agrees, and moves down Steve’s body. 

“Tony,” Steve coaxes, and tips Tony’s chin up with one of his fingers. Tony doesn’t look, won’t, focuses on Steve’s genitals in front of him and the things he plans to do with his mouth - 

“Tony,” Steve says again. “What you have on your wrist isn’t gonna change this.” 

It is so abysmally tender that Tony can’t stand his own silence even a moment longer. 

He bends low. He presses his mouth to the stem of Steve’s cock, licks until all that come from their first round starts to smear on his tongue. He resents this man, this man who doesn’t know what he doesn’t know. He is in love with this man and this man will always be mateless and this will always be uneven and slanted and Tony smiles so Steve knows this is his pleasure and not some middling torment for the both of them.  
  
He guides Steve into his mouth because he can’t be silent and he can’t be honest and he can’t prove his devotion the way normal people do. He swallows Steve down just as Steve twines one hand in his. 

_Why must you always insist_, Tony wants to say. _Why must you always love me._

_I want to keep you forever_, Steve is saying. _I wanna be in your throat all goddamn day, Tony, god, I love - oh, _Tony_ -_

Tony thinks about the name on his wrist and swallows and swallows and swallows.

**Author's Note:**

> • Thank you for reading!  
• I treasure any and all comments.  
• I am kiyaar on [tumblr](http://kiyaar.tumblr.com) and besafesteve on [twitter](http://twitter.com/besafesteve).  
• If you enjoyed this, please consider [reblogging.](https://kiyaar.tumblr.com/post/187809763508/fic-3-smuts-of-varying-angst)


End file.
